Dead Star Shine
by wordslinger
Summary: Jellal tears open his wounds daily just to watch them bleed. Maybe if he bleeds enough he'll fill the hearts he hollowed out himself. Or maybe they're too broken. Even the sight of the blood hurts him. Blood is red – scarlet. And he's far too close to scarlet things for anyone's good. Especially hers. Jerza.


**Note: I originally wrote this in 2015 and titled it _Monachopsis._ The title never really pleased me and honestly most of it was terribly written. I always meant to go back and fix things once the manga ended - mostly because I'd hoped Jellal's arc would be completed and not left hanging. Fairy Tail has been over for a year now and I guess I can finally come to terms with what I got.**

 **I've gutted it, changed the tense, and broken it up into edible pieces. Probably two or three bites. This is mostly an expansion of canon with a focus on Jellal in all his tortured emo glory.**

* * *

Life outside of prison takes more adjustment than he expects. Of course, he doesn't know what exactly _to_ expect. Freedom is a new concept. He doesn't understand it beyond a vague, childish dream of fresh air, windows without bars, and food whenever he wants it.

Meredy tries to be helpful. She uses words like _reaquaintment_ and _relearning_ but Jellal is opposed to those terms. They imply he's had freedom before and simply needs to _reprogram_ himself to life on the outside. Which isn't true at all. Jellal has never had freedom. Even now he doesn't have it. He's a vagabond doing dirty work people who aren't in his position can't.

He tries to remember the last time he felt like himself. His time spent incarcerated was a festering pot of self-loathing and frustration and an overlap of _not_ remembering but also remembering _everything._ Before that he was a puppet. A front man for something so disgusting and dark he doesn't want to look at it – but he can't _not_ look. He owes it to the people harmed by the Tower to look at it and look at it often. Jellal tears open his wounds daily just to watch them bleed. Maybe if he bleeds enough he'll fill the hearts he hollowed out himself. Or maybe they're too broken. Even the sight of the blood hurts him. Blood is red – _scarlet._ And he's far too close to _scarlet_ things for anyone's good. Especially hers.

Before that he was nothing but a dirty child wrapped in rags screaming revolution. That doesn't count, though. Not to him. Slaves don't have choices. Not ever. He realizes this is his _conundrum._ If slaves have no choices then why is he allowing the weight of the Tower to leave grooves in his back and shoulders? Why is he responsible when he had no choice?

 _Because._ That is the only reason he has. And it is good enough.

Who was Jellal Fernandes before slavery? He doesn't know. He can't remember. Perhaps this is for the best. He doesn't want to yearn for more things than he already does.

It's odd knowing that Ultear was behind his wheel for so many years. She's a victim, too, he knows. A lonely little girl forced to swallow so many lies they poisoned her. It's even odder to be at her side once more as an ally. Of course, he isn't sure there has ever been a time when she hasn't been an ally in his mind; such was the depth of her deception.

He doesn't know why he's forgiven her so wholeheartedly. She's taken everything from him that has ever mattered. His chance for freedom. His friends. _Erza_. But she is familiar to him. A devil he knows. Pondering on Ultear and what they are to one another is part of his conundrum. How can he blame her for her actions when she'd been groomed from infancy to be a tool of powerful men in powerful positions? It is a different form of slavery. An insidious manipulation – one she turned on him when prompted.

On the nights when he can't see the stars and misses things that were never truly his, he wonders which is worse: a self-aware slave or one who doesn't recognize that their choices have never been their own. He has no answers.

* * *

They are a tightly knit group of three, but Jellal often feels like an outsider. Meredy worships Ultear and he feels… indifferent? Indebted? Indentured? He isn't sure. Ultear views penance in a way he doesn't entirely agree with. He hesitates to call her _selfish_ but whatever it is, it is part of who Ultear is as a person. She believes that if she is to continue on her path of destroying dark magic, she requires certain allowances. Jellal doesn't allow himself any creature comforts. He doesn't seek out lovers or have an equivalent of Meredy.

When his mind is quiet he mulls over things like _heroism versus vigilantism,_ and _atonement versus propitiation._ Sometimes it's all just too much and he focuses on nothing but the way his boots leave prints in the dirt.

* * *

"Did you know Meredy believes you to be asexual?" Ultear says absently as she tosses a handful of twigs into their dying fire. Jellal glances at the bedroll in the shadows and sighs.

"What difference does it make?"

"She's curious about you. You're the only man who's ever been kind to her without asking for subservience in return."

"And my sexuality is part of that curiosity?"

"A little, yes. It's natural for her to wonder what makes you tick. What you desire. Her magic is along these lines."

"If she's so curious why does she not sensory link to me?"

"I don't think that's a good idea," Ultear says dryly.

"And why is that?" This conversation has left him feeling particularly nettled. "You were younger than her when you slid right into my head and began to pull strings. Are you trying to be the protective authority you never had?"

"Ouch."

Jellal shrugs and looks away. "Sorry."

"You don't owe me any apologies, Jellal."

"What was it like?" He asks. He's always meant to ask.

"What do you mean?"

"Being in my head. I still have a hard time. It's… _strange_ remembering it. I recall the doing but not always the why. At the time everything made sense, but now everything is a tangle."

"It –" Ultear pauses before blowing out an exasperated breath. "It was hard to overcome the brightness of your essence, Jellal. I didn't take you over and command you like a puppet. I subverted and rerouted your natural instincts and proclivities. Things became easier after –" She clears her throat and looks away.

"After you got rid of Erza, you mean?"

"Yes. The sway she held over you at that time was difficult to manage. I had to keep a stricter eye on Seigrain than you because even your projection was drawn to her. It stretched my control quite thin at times. He came across as more cruel than you intended, I believe."

"So the things I did and the decisions I made were technically my own."

"In a manner of speaking, yes, but not in the way you're thinking. You'd never have come up with the idea to continue the Tower's construction because your priorities weren't the same as Grimoire Heart's. If left to your own devices, you'd probably have followed Erza all the way to the front gates of Fairy Tail. I twisted your childlike philosophies into a manner befitting my own interests in Zeref. Truth be told, I had no intention of sharing with Hades if I got my hands on him first. Without my interference, none of those crimes would've been committed."

"But –"

"There's darkness inside us all. No one is without it. You were a strong-willed child. It was your drive to escape and punish the men who hurt those you loved that opened the door for me."

"So love is a weakness after all." He laughs at that.

"Only if you're hell bent on making it so."

"Am I hell bent, Ultear?"

"I think you're hell bent on punishing yourself for not being stronger at a time in your life when only malicious creatures like me are strong. I wish you wouldn't."

"Hm." It's easy to banter with her because they know one another as lovers might. Jellal has never _seen_ her in such a way but he has _felt_ her. There is something lingering and intimate between them. Something both rotten and comforting. He doesn't ever need to tell Ultear how he feels – she's seen him from the inside out. She _knows._

"The reason I don't allow Meredy to dig into you isn't for her sake. It's for yours. I think you've had enough of that sort of thing, don't you?"

* * *

Ultear never offers to spend time searching the blank space in the ocean where Tenrou Island used to be. She knows he'll decline. Their mission doesn't allow for derailments to search for _almost_ lovers. He suspects his guildmates know he doesn't think her dead anyway.

Jellal distinctly remembers the fierce way Erza pulsed through him that day so many years before. She brought her light, however desperate and defeated, into his cell and into his heart. The guards could've ripped him limb from limb in that moment and he would've happily let them as long as Erza emerged victorious. She isn't dead. Gone, maybe. _Hidden._ But _dead?_ No.

There is _something_ in the back of his mind that tickles at him. The form of it is nebulous at best, and the function even less known. But it feels like Erza. Not her body or voice or anything like that. Just a feeling that threads him to her. He can only access it in the hazy moments between sleep and dream. Sometimes it's the memories of her hair slipping through his fingers. Dirty as it was, he'd still thought it lovely. Other times it's a warm ball that lodges itself in his chest. She _isn't_ dead.

However ill defined the thread, if Erza ever reaches out to him and connects the way she did when her life had been in danger, he knows he won't stand to the side. He'll go to her without hesitation. Jellal is saving his selfishness for when it matters most.

More than a few times he's caught Ultear gazing curiously at him through a campfire. He guesses that she has a good idea of where his thoughts retreat at the end of any given day – despite Meredy's assumptions of his sexuality or lack thereof.

* * *

They are miles between cities and under a cloudless sky when it happens. Jellal falls to his knees and exhales harshly. He can feel Meredy fawning but doesn't have the wherewithal to deflect. The dormant thread in his head throbs and he squeezes his eyes shut. A sudden mental thrust takes his breath away. There is a flash of green and blue before he feels a presence that is unmistakably Erza before retreating as far from the thread as possible.

She is alive and it is _enough._

* * *

Ultear tosses a tabloid into his lap as he rests in the shade of a wood. She smirks. The headline reads: _Lost Fairy Tail Members Recovered!_

"You knew," she states plainly.

"I didn't."

"You did, though. You practically fainted on the road on the day they were found. Explain."

"It's complicated." Jellal sets aside the paper magazine and stretches his legs out in front of him. "I never thought she was dead anyway."

"So you don't know why you collapsed in the middle of the road on the same day Erza appeared back in the world?"

He sighs, and folds his arms behind his head. "She called to me once. When I was in prison I heard her voice, and felt her inside of me. She was in a dire situation, and I felt her. I spoke to her, as well."

"What?" Ultear's incredulity makes him laugh.

"What I felt on the road the other day was like a whale breaking the surface of a placid ocean. It was incredible, and I didn't expect it."

"But it was Erza awakening? Did she speak to you?"

"No, I saw some flashes of what I assume were her surroundings, but I pulled back as quickly as I could."

"Huh." Ultear is silent for several moments. "I was inside your head for almost a decade. Why is it that I never felt even a hint of this connection?"

Jellal laughs again. She is frustrated and he enjoys it.

"This isn't funny, Jellal. Mental and sensory connections can be _dangerous_. Meredy is still figuring out the nuance of her magic and it's clear that certain uses can severely damage the human mind."

"Maybe I'm crazy. It would serve me right."

Ultear huffs indignantly. "You're going to describe this to Meredy and we'll see what she says."

"Why?"

"Because we rely on you!" She frowns. He knows she isn't wrong. "And I'll not have you going mad before admitting the truth of things."

"And what truth is that?"

"That you're a _masochist_ and _none_ of what happened was your fault. You feel guilt for things _I_ did. And –"

"I'm not going mad, Ultear."

"We'll see." She turns to go but pauses mid-spin. "And you better behave yourself."

"Excuse me?"

"Now that Fairy Tail has its strongest members back I'm sure the winner's pot for the Grand Magic Games will look quite appealing. I understand they have a significant amount of debt. If we want an inside source we'll need to make contact with them. Fairy Tail is the most likely to deign to work with us. The dark magic is festering and even if they won't feed us information, they should know about it."

"What does this have to do with my behavior?"

Ultear grins and it is suddenly less amusing. "Because Erza will most likely be amongst our contacts. Don't put her off with talk of whales and oceans and mental links. I'm serious, Jellal."

He pulls up his hood to hide his chagrin. "I wouldn't dream of doing any such thing."

His cavalier attitude is a front. The link terrifies him. It has been _many_ years since he's seen Erza last. More for him than for her, and even though he knows he is beneath her in _every_ way… he still hopes that she'll at least be happy to see him.

* * *

Honesty is painful, as it turns out. He dumped his broken world view at her feet and she found it to be _unsuitable._

Seeing Erza again is both exhilarating and debilitating. Jellal feels caught somewhere in between the two. She is still young and vibrant and exactly herself. Seven years seems an insurmountable gap and yet he feels more of a peer than ever before. He needed those seven years to find himself. Perhaps the self he found is broken and bruised but it is _him_ all the same. He is his own. And even though outrageous lies are falling from his lips, he feels like maybe she understands.

 _"Is she someone you care about?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _"Then you must live for her sake."_

Maybe he's been living for the wrong things. Maybe Ultear is right when she tells him he can afford to be kinder to himself. _Maybe._

* * *

Dressing as Mystogan is possibly the most uncomfortable he's been in years. The bandages and cape are excruciatingly hot and bothersome. Laxus Dreyer's constant prodding doesn't help his situation. He seems to be the only one who had enough contact with Mystogan to school him on proper behavior.

"You know you're obvious as fuck, right?" Laxus drawls from behind him.

"Pardon?"

"You're staring at her like the area isn't filled with thousands of _other_ people. Mystogan was more aloof than that."

"No one has ever accused me of lacking an aloof demeanor."

"Well, _I'm_ telling you that you'll give yourself away if you keep eye-fucking Erza like that. You'll be lucky if she doesn't knock your teeth through the back of your skull when she catches you at it." Laxus hooks his hands behind his neck and grins in a way Jellal doesn't care for. "You two got a thing or something?"

"No." Jellal pries his eyes from Erza long enough to fix Laxus with a glare. "We do not have a _thing_. I've just known her for a very long time."

"You wondering if she's into older men now?" Laxus is at his flank now and speaking quietly in his ear. "You're pushing thirty and she's still got that hot younger body. Must be rough."

"It wouldn't matter if there wasn't a gap between us," Jellal says with more confidence than he feels. "Erza and I cannot be close."

"Sure, man, whatever. Don't blow your cover by thinking with the wrong head, that's all I'm saying." Laxus returns to his chair and balances it on two legs as he reclines into the wall. "Maybe you should actually talk to her before making decisions about the two of you."

"I don't –"

"Don't top from the bottom, _Mystogan_. It doesn't work like that."

The other members of Team B join them in the tunnel and conversation ceases. Jellal is grateful. It irks him that he is so obvious.

* * *

He finds her in the darkness.

"I didn't know if you'd be willing to speak with me alone." Jellal pulls his mask down and tries not to fidget. Erza leaves him breathless always.

"Did you assume I'd hold such an ridiculous lie against you, Jellal?" He flounders even though he already knows she hadn't.

"I'm sorry. This is difficult for me. For so long I've been able to focus on the task at hand without distraction and now –"

"I distract you?"

Jellal sighs. He may as well lay out his heart on the cobblestones for all his skill at holding back. "I want impossible things, it seems. Things I don't have a right to want."

"And you don't think I should have a say? I understand that you have a mission, but don't waste your life. I missed seven years and now more than ever I value the people I care about."

"Erza –"

"Do you know what I was thinking about when I thought that dragon would kill us all?" Her smile is almost sad but it is still beautiful. "I had regrets, Jellal. So many of them. Don't spend your life fighting the war only to never enjoy the peace."

"I'm trying. Ultear thinks me mad." Erza laughs and he feels somewhere in the clouds.

"Well, maybe you are a _little bit_ mad. Usually it's _me_ turning men down. I'm not used to rejection." It takes him a moment to realize she's teasing him. "Let's get down to business. Tell me more about this dark magic."


End file.
